Yellow Flicker Beat
by Rhombea
Summary: Ithnan had this one thing left to do. And he did it, but the past never stopped haunting him until the end. (Alternate happenings to the night Ithnan attacked Sindria)


_I'm a princess cut from marble, smoother than a storm  
And the scars that mark my body, they're silver and gold  
My blood is a flood of rubies, precious stones  
It keeps my veins hot, the fires find a home in me  
I move through town, I'm quiet like a fight  
And my necklace is of rope, I tie it and untie it_

Looking down onto the festivities, Ithnan let out an unappreciative sigh. They were much too happy, much too exited in their little coming together.  
His pale skin being enlighten for a split second, he brushed some loose strands out of his face, only to put on his checker mask, the moonlight dancing over the golden parts, before being hid away by big, dark clouds. Soon enough there was no natural light coming from the sky anymore and when he pulled up the white mask, he too, wasn't recognizable anymore. All there was left were the electric tension and the patient growling of the sky, keeping itself low as to not draw all the attention to it right away.

He was way too high up in the sky, but he figured they must have noticed it nevertheless, as the small ant-like people seemingly stored away the stalls and walked away from the festival. They didn't knew what was coming for them, who was coming for them and yet they were cautious. If they would know the truth like he did, if they had seen it, would they still go to such a length of preparing themselves for the storm? Halting his thoughts he shook his head. There was no time for resentment, he had to concentrate.

Lowering his body down - even the great magician had to move out of the thunder's way -, he set foot on the ground, hiding away in one of Sindria's countless side streets, only some tiny little mouses witnessing his presence before scattering into their holes and niches.

The tension rose inside of him, the magoi he stored in his veins and muscles started to build up energy, preparing itself for it's purpose, and soon enough it would be set free. Soon, but not right now. If it wasn't for _that_ reason, it would almost have been exciting to use his magic. But everything he enjoyed now came with a price. Even though he had paid for his own will long time ago, it still suffocated him even now. With every step he took and with every blink of his eyes he felt the price lacing itself around his neck, getting tighter and tighter, loosing up for a split second before cutting into his mind again.

 _People talk to me, but nothing ever hits home  
People talk to me, and all the voices just burn holes  
I'm done with it_

Her voice in his head as he watched the flocks of humans returning to their homes, in a hectic as to not get wet from the uprising rain, but they were still laughing and joking around. How long had it been since he had laughed. Or joked around with his friends, fought alongside them. When was the last time he had felt alive, Ithnan wondered.  
Not even Arba's words reached him anymore. Her believe and her will were nothing, empty words which he didn't let into his conscience anymore and if he ever did, he just wanted to drown the memories, the promises and the actions, which still haunted him in his dreams, in his thoughts and in his heart.

But the thing right in front of him, well, he had to finish this. And if it was the last thing he did, at least it would stop the never ending war inside of him. Right?

 _This is the start of how it all ever ends  
They used to shout my name, now they whisper it  
I'm speeding up and this is the  
Red, orange, yellow flicker beat sparking up my heart  
We're at the start, the colors disappear  
I never watch the stars, there's so much down here  
So I just try to keep up with them  
Red, orange, yellow flicker beat sparking up my heart_

Smooth, almost gentle, were his steps. They had to be, if he didn't want to get hurt by his own thunderbolts, crashing down onto the streets of Sindria. The sound of the occasional screams echoing in his ears, as Ithnan moved forward, channeling his body through the masses of running people. There was panic, chaos even. If not for the few dedicated generals, who were directing their citizens to safety, everyone would be lost in thunder and burning wood.

Ironic, Ithnan thought. Quite a few years ago it was he who would try to sort the chaos, rather than causing it. Now there was no one who would make him feel addressed, not even his name feeling like it belonged on the body he owned now.  
Still their faces made him remember the ones of his friends and comrades. No matter where he went and how much time passed, people would never change.

Picking up speed he clawed his way forward, the movements of his head becoming more and more hectic. By now they must have noticed his strange look, maybe even the magoi rushing out of him as more and more bolts of lightning formed on the dark sky. Ithnan realized how he got caught up in his thoughts again, as he had lost his aim in the bulks of people. He had to find the prince, quick. And especially without getting caught up again in his own misery or by the eyes of his enemies.

After one more shook of thunder, the magician lifted his head. In the distance he thought to have made out the person of desire, right when another dazzling bolt lit up the area, crashing down onto one stand, exploding and setting it aflame in seconds.

For a moment he felt anger boiling up in him, as he realized how he hadn't calculated the lightness of his actions, literally. No one should have been able to see anything and yet, the tip of the spear was placed perfectly at his throat. Not surprising, Hakuryuu had trained himself quite admirably after all, Ithnan was barely able to take a step back, otherwise that deadliness would have meant his demise. Suddenly neither of them were bothered by the strike of lightning crashing down near them, leaving a shattering sound in their minds and blinding their eyes.

There it was again, that feeling of excitement rushing through his veins. And this time only, he let the smile, coming with it, creep onto his face.

 _I dream all year, but they're not the sweet kinds  
And the shivers move down my shoulder blades in double time_

Not even the sound of thunder echoed in his head anymore. It was quiet. Some would have said too quiet, but for Ithnan it was peaceful. His distraction had succeeded, even with the small incident that would have made for a big regret. But the prince was naive and the short moment of blindness was enough time to go and get into contact with him. It was almost too easy, the prince being already like a puppet with his fake limps.

Ithnan thought about himself as the puppeteer, as he floated in the nothingness of the space he head created for his personal use, lifting and sinking his fingers as if they had strings attached. Of course he was pleased, now that his plan succeeded. How could he not be? By now Solomon would have patted his shoulder, telling him how reliable he was.

Opening his eyes, Ithnan looked into the endless pit of darkness around him, fixating no specific point as he condemned himself for this thought. It's not like he needed this recognition. It's not like he wanted it either. Just why could he not stop himself from thinking about these things. These persons which no longer were with him. Why did they always come back, haunting him, making him feel lonely all of a sudden and leaving him trembling as they grew more, images and faces – terrible faces, burnt and pained – showing up in front of his inner eye. Suddenly this space was no longer comfortable. The suffocating feeling returned as he began to shake, heat rising and sinking constantly, fear and agony feeding away on him.

 _And now people talk to me I'm slipping out of reach now  
People talk to me, and all their faces blur  
But I got my fingers laced together and I made a little prison  
And I'm locking up everyone who ever laid a finger on me  
I'm done with it_

Ithnan could barely hear Sinbad. Through the blurry vision he thought he saw the king's mouth moving, but maybe that was just his imagination too.

Dying was not nice, he thought. Ithnan always believed it would be nice, more peaceful as his life until now. But it was disappointing to find out that it wasn't. He felt a stinging pain in his back, his feet were barely sensible anymore and maybe it was the darkening magoi inside of him, but something appeared to be eating away his whole existence. It was a terrifying feeling at best. As if it wasn't enough that he soon had to face another terrible person, no, before that he had to bear with the rest of his pitiful existence and the painful suffering. He knew what was coming for him and he knew it was himself who chose this ending. Hate was the last thing he consciously felt. Hate for all the people who made him into what he was, who manipulated him into doing these things and hate for himself, because if anything, he was the most idiotic of them all.

Coughing, his vocal cords wouldn't make a sound anymore. As he breathed in for the last time, a certain lightness coming over him, Ithnan could hear himself talking in his head for the last time:

„I forgive you."

 _This is the start of how it all ever ends  
They used to shout my name, now they whisper it  
I'm speeding up and this is the  
Red, orange, yellow flicker beat sparking up my heart  
We're at the start, the colors disappear  
I never watch the stars, there's so much down here  
So I just try to keep up with them  
Red, orange, yellow flicker beat sparking up my heart_

Where he found himself, there was no pain. There was no sound, no breathing, no feeling and no regret. It was all and it was nothing, the beginning and the end. His light, colorful soul got no judgement and it neither felt sad nor happy. If anything it felt empty, but in a pleasant way.

While there were parts of him shattered on the world, when Sinbad crushed that little doll of his, Ithnan no longer felt anything of them. And it was right this way. For once he was content with things not going his way, suddenly everything he did was so meaningless. Funny, even.

The spirit next to him put a hand on his shoulder, it was saying something. The words were not understandable but Ithnan knew what it wanted. It was time to move on, they couldn't stay at one place, they had to go with the flow. And then Ithnan opened what would have been his mouth, if not for the uncoordinated shape of his body, telling the other souls about his life on the world. Nothing he did was terrible, nothing was good either. But they listened intently and they asked things, made him tell more, review every detail there was. They told him that they were glad he was finally with them.

And as the sun rose over the ocean, dipping the flow of the rukh in the colors of its rays, letting them shimmer in all the red, orange, yellow tones it sent out, which were caught up in their translucent bodies, Ithnan told them just how glad he was, to be finally with them again.

 _And this is the red, orange, yellow flicker beat  
Sparking up my heart  
And this is the red, orange, yellow flicker beat_


End file.
